Fantastic Castaway
by Yamato's Tiger Lily
Summary: Nothing was special about him.


I'm sure you guys are more than aware of the new movie Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them is out and, well, I've recently watched it. Honestly, I liked it way more than I anticipated!

And needless to say that I may have seen things a little deeper between Graves and Credence.

Anyway, this fanfic contains movie spoilers so please read it if you've seen the movie already! Let me know what you think!

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 **Fantastic Castaway**

Nothing was special about him. He barely remembered his mother. He barely remembered his old name. Credence Barebone couldn't have been his old name, but it was one that Mary Lou Barebone, his adoptive mother, had given him. It wasn't a special name, he had thought.

In the midst of his ordinary family, he started to make things move; without touching them. Sometimes, they'd float. Sometimes, he could make things fly gently to the ground. Sometimes, he could lift things without lifting a finger himself.

Rage, Mary Lou would scream and shout at first at Chastity. It worked. Easily, she fell in line. Easily, she swallowed the words her mother fed to her, and tried to feed the same rhetoric to the other children. Easily, she tore up the letter from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Easily, she expected Credence to do the same to his.

Credence refused, thus he took the brunt of it.

"Remember your name," Mary Lou told him in hushed whispers, moments after she beat him. The young man tried to suppress his sadness, his anger, his pain. "Remember your belief in what I'm doing! I'm doing it for your own good! I'm doing it for all of us! To protect us from these demons who live among us! Remember, Credence. Remember!"

He did very well to remember his name. Credence Barebone. To have credence, one would have to have the belief, or the acceptance, of something as true – witches were evil. They were demons who entranced others with promises of powers and freedom. The stings of her anger remained as he tried his best to understand.

He hardly remembered his mother. He barely remembered his father.

When Modesty spoke of her previous family, she'd tell stories he'd want to hear. She'd tell him how her parents relied on the older boys to take care of the younger siblings. He wanted to be like that. He saw her smiles, the smiles of comfort, the smiles of a modest girl, brightly through the darkness they all lived in.

Still, he smiled at her. He didn't want her to worry. He couldn't be in pain.

He didn't agree with Mary Lou's beliefs – there wasn't any credence to what she said. Witches and wizards were amazing… From the moment Mary Lou adopted him, she made it clear that he will never truly belong to the non-magical world so long as he carried the dark spirit within him.

Outside, he'd stand up straight. Outside, he'd stand up stiff. He couldn't let anyone see the pain. He couldn't let anyone see the pain he carried on his shoulders. He'd often take the blame for Modesty and even through Chastity's taunts and jeers. He knew what his own credence was – to protect the little sister who adopted him.

Through the city's darkness one day, he saw a strange man who stared at the preaching family from the distance. A strange power taunted the young man and soon he found himself walking through the darkness – though, he wasn't frightened by it. He was used to the dark realities that lied beneath.

The man seduced him with his gruff, and groomed, appearance and soon a smile tickled his lips. Credence was surprised at the welcoming, yet somehow sinister, aura that he was already familiar with. Immediately, the man introduced himself as the Auror Percival Graves; though, he chuckled at having to explain what an auror was to this naïve and curious young man. He started to show him tricks – little tricks similar what he had performed when he was a naïve boy.

That first meeting left Credence hungry for more. He wanted to learn more. The man hadn't opened his mouth to promises. He hadn't even said why he stalked the family but Credence knew he didn't belong to the world Mary Lou wanted. He knew that he just couldn't fit in with the rest.

If Mary Lou had to beat him, constantly… how was he expected to fit in with the rest of the world? Modesty was young. She had to watch the two extremes – total reliance and total defiance – before her eyes on a daily basis. The bad dreams never stopped for Credence of what the world would be like should he ever leaves the dark home.

He couldn't live in a world like that.

The frustration of being forced to live in such a world blinded him. Sometimes he could feel himself turn lighter and do things he wouldn't normally do. His emotions would be at an all-time high. He wouldn't remember what he did though… sometimes he'd have a recollection of destroyed homes and bodies with markings on their faces, dead. The dead dolls lied on the ground with the rough markings of an angry child.

These nightmares wouldn't end.

He had to be free somehow.

Soon, the relationship between Credence and the man, known as Graves, quickly escalated. Soon, the older more experienced man would touch him. He touched him in places he never knew could feel good. He never realized touches from another person, another man, another being, could be comforting instead used to leave welts on his person. He could never experience this with Mary Lou. This was a different kind of feeling Credence had.

Emotions started to shift for him – he felt things. He felt things towards this older man.

 _Was this okay too, Mary Lou? Were these feelings just as forbidden for being a witch? Ma._

Graves must've known. Credence always became weak under his gaze, under his touch. The touches Graves gave him always comforted and they felt experienced. He felt maybe Graves must've had a strange feeling too. He wanted more touches but he wouldn't dare ask. His throat dried up any time he'd thought of it.

"Keep an eye out for the child," Graves would encourage in whispers. "Keep an eye out for power."

Easily swayed, easily moved, Credence listened. Already addicted, already an addict, Credence wanted more.

Promises of freedom started to echo in his nightmares. Promises of a world outside of this hell started to take over. His determination overwhelmed him. Before he had always been protective of Modesty but… he didn't understand these feelings.

Now the destruction started to come more and more with ease. His emotions were frazzled and fragile and he felt guilty for it. He was angry at the senator. Angry that he called him and his family trash.

Angry that he was right.

Soon, the deed for the dead was done and it added another notch of sin to his already growing repertoire.

And yet, it didn't sting him until Graves hit him. Until then, he understood it all. Graves never cared for him. He only was another pawn. He was used as another belief that he didn't truly believe. He'd spit at his name and his meaning. He was never meant for great things – only to be used as an example. His life is a tragic song and dance of what could happen to others – his pain would never find relief. He would never be accepted in any world.

Heart broken, powers awakened, and anger renewed, Credence could only do one thing. And that's to destroy everything.

The only words he'd listen to was that woman who tried to help him that singular time. She never came back to help her until that moment – he could feel his rage subdue itself but that's when he was tricked one last time.

It destroyed his body but his heart, his anger, his betrayals, and sadness, will cloud over the city therein. It hurt.

From birth until death, Credence was not special to anyone.


End file.
